


Taurid Interlude

by Entwife_Incognito



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M, Love, Romance, Tenderness, outdoors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:20:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwife_Incognito/pseuds/Entwife_Incognito
Summary: A bit of fluff inspired by the showy Taurid meteor shower. The G sweetness became sultry E, as thoughts about Jane and Lisbon often do.These two just have a way of igniting.Originally published on Tumblr,  November 8, 2015.
Relationships: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon
Kudos: 9





	Taurid Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> I neither own nor profit from The Mentalist.

“Sometimes you feel like Charlotte in my arms.”

“Yeah?” 

“Like now … when you’re soft and snuggly and you climb onto this big rocker—” 

“Onto your lap …” 

“Like this. Yes, and lay your head on my chest, looking at me. Your breath is warm and it tickles my neck and ear. And you hum as I rock with you in my arms.” She smelled of soap and shampoo. Clean and fresh, innocent. He chuckled softly. Luckily, his wife was not an innocent. Teresa was full, beautiful woman, who craved the man in him. His thoughts warmed, thinking about the night still before them. 

Warm where their bodies touched, Teresa felt the bite of autumn air on her back and legs. “Put the blanket around me, Patrick, and hold me close. It’s chilly tonight.” 

Bracing her, he leaned to grab the thick fluffy blanket, folded and draped over the near arm of the glider. He helped pull it around her shoulders, tucking in various places until she had settled again. 

“Do you pretend I’m Charlotte?” 

“What?” A soft laugh curled from his chest. Definitely not what he was thinking. “No. You’re not Charlotte, but you’re my soft, sweet Teresa and I think you feel safe and happy in my lap. Like Charlotte did.” He gave her a quick squeeze and kissed her hair, realizing it was still a little damp. Shifting them, he pulled the blanket to cover her head and re-tucked a few spots to keep her snug. 

“I do. Safe and loved like no one has since I was a tiny girl.” 

“You just wouldn’t let yourself feel it.” He paused for her reply, but heard only a contented sigh. “But I agree. No one has loved you like I love you.” 

Teresa pinched his waist. Not too hard, because he was gloating in the truth. Then, she hugged him tightly. “I know. That’s how I love you.” Yes, he’d been married before to a woman he’d deeply loved, but she was long past comparing herself to his dead wife. He didn’t. She was only herself, to him, the only woman. They were bonded, and Patrick’s deep, protective love was only for her. Only. That knowledge made her feel treasured. 

“You make me feel safe and loved, too, Teresa. I’m where I belong, where I should be. With you, touching you, holding you. And you want to be close to me. My world is in balance.” 

“Mine, too.” 

Moths pinged the porch light, bouncing off and taking the next plunge. Their shadows flickered pleasantly in the soft glow. 

Happy, Teresa started to hum. Patrick’s deeper voice joined the impromptu, simple and unhurried as the rocking chair gave a squeak or two, bumping gently over the seams where the slats joined on the porch floor. Patrick added a pleasant counterpoint and harmony. His neck rumbled against Teresa’s forehead and his voice into her ear. She smiled because it tickled a little. She felt him stir, and his head turn. 

“The dark is plush. Close, like the stars are pulling it down.” He turned the rocker so they could see the night sky better. “Only a sliver of moon.” 

“Patrick! A shooting star!” 

“It’s so bright! Make a wish!” 

They stared, wishing on the shooting star, as the meteor grew bigger and brighter, intensely yellow. It looked like a flaming baseball, a fastball flung true from some mighty pitcher’s arm, before it suddenly faded from sight, trailing into the black horizon. 

They made many silent wishes that night and many sighs and cries of surprise at the Taurid meteor shower’s astonishing display. 

After a couple hours, a bit cramped and restless, but not wanting to leave her husband’s warmth, Teresa yawned and wriggled in Patrick’s lap. “I’ve run out of wishes …” 

“You? Not possible.” 

“I’m too happy, Patrick. I don’t want anything more than right now, right here with you.” 

Stabilizing her with a gentle squeeze, he managed to stretch from head to toe, ending with a long sigh. “Are you tired of watching the meteors?” 

“Yes. Let’s go in to bed.” She gave him a snuggling hug. “We can cuddle better there.” Sliding from his lap, she folded the blanket, replacing it on the arm of the glider, ready for the next outdoor chill. The rocker creaked behind her as Patrick stood. 

When Teresa turned back, he kissed her, brushing her lips with his warm, moist tongue. “Mmmmm,” he rumbled. “I’m ready to hold my woman in my arms.” 

Teresa’s belly kindled. “Unnf, that sexy tongue! Now I’m burning like a meteor …” Groaning a little, she brushed his bottom without lingering, letting the cheek shape her pliant hand and fingers through the thin knit of his sleep pants. “Hurry!” 

His eyes glittered, taking her in without touch. “So sensitive. So responsive. One little kiss and I have a fireball on my hands …” A shiver of pleasure made him lick his lips and smile as his body came to life, already prepared for her. 

Hugging herself, Teresa smiled, snug in the nightgown feel of her husband’s clean shirt. She rubbed warmth into her arms, cuffs flopping over her fingertips, as Patrick returned the rocker to its place and then held the door for her. 

Just inside, Patrick gently pushed Teresa flush to the wall, kissing her neck, her throat, below her ears, listening to her breath, her sweet-scented heat reaching to him as he rolled her cuffs and freed her hands to pull him closer. He bent to her touch and unbuttoned the shirt, pushing it away to expose her, then covered her breasts with slow languorous kisses, slipping his fingers between her naked legs and into wet fire. He grunted the pleasure of it. Combustible! 

Could she stand? Teresa didn’t know, losing focus on everything except the incredible sensation and mood inducted by her husband’s skillful fingers. No, he was all there, drifting into her body as she closed her eyes and let go. He would never let her fall. 

Wrapping a long arm across her back, Patrick felt her swoon. He lifted and cradled her limp form, his mouth moving over hers as tenderly as she tasted him, arms falling loosely from his neck. His broad hand supported her hips, squeezing her bottom. She sighed, then, and cooed as he pet her with his free hand, sure feet carrying him to their bed. They drew together as Patrick floated the sheets and comforter over them, awash in their crisp, clean scent. 

Arm supporting her shoulders, he couldn’t stop rubbing her, kissing her cheeks and drawing her gasping breath into his mouth. He watched her face and listened to the hoarse, rhythmic cries of her first release. Continuing to play gently, he tenderly massaged the underlying nerve structure and she revived under his hand. 

Teresa’s body surged from her core, seeking another release. “Again-.” She moaned and pushed against Patrick’s fingers, widening her legs to give him freedom, until she broke again with a soft, recurring cry, her breath musical with pleasure. “I love your fingers, Patrick.” 

His fingers stilled, full of her moisture, part of her flesh. “I love you …” His own thought, not an answer to hers. 

“When you touch me like this, they feel like my fingers … or our fingers … eternal fingers.” Eyes gently shut, she smiled, exhaling a sigh that laughed at herself. 

Gliding his fingertips over her soft clitoris, he felt it stiffen. Her legs fell open again. 

“Mmmmm. I can’t get enough of you tonight.” Lifting her head, she met his lips with moist, sucking kisses. “More,” she whispered. 

He hugged her close, circling her soft flesh, loving the way she strained and gripped his arms before coming again. This time, she laughed and sighed with her orgasm, high and girlish, looking dreamily into Patrick’s eyes and lifting her hand to his cheek. 

“You’re beautiful, Teresa … amazing …” 

Bending low, he lifted her hips and lovingly kissed what he had been rubbing. But she reached for him greedily and pulled him into a love that warmed them both through and through before releasing them into unconsciousness. 

Balls of flame, crossing the window glass in the distant night sky, went without wishes, the lovers sprawled together in dreamless sleep.


End file.
